Page 55 of The Love of Priest 2

"Of course she will be! She has a PHD, and she's been a great mother for 28 years.

The woman will always be right about a few things, but our whole purpose is to prove her wrong, even when she's right," Brea sighed.

"All I'm saying is if you and Brixton continue to let her live life vicariously through you guys, you two won't be able to experience a thing. "

Britain sighed as she nodded her head, taking in the great advice Brea had to offer. "When did you become so wise?" she jested.

Brea waved her older sister off. "We talk like eight times a year. You barely know me now," she cackled mischievously.

Britain felt a sense of guilt rush over her. She knew she could try harder to reach out to her sister. "Sorry about that," she apologized again.

"It's fine, Mocha. We weren't raised to be up each other's asses anyway," Brea laughed. "Just stay safe out there in Italy and don't lose yourself in the process. You're still one of the women I look up to, and I can't risk you changing for the worst on me." Brea smiled.

Britain couldn't contain the smile on her face as she nodded her head. "I love you, Brea-Bear," she told her sister, using her childhood nickname.

"I love you too, Mocha. I have to check on a patient. Don't let Ma get to you. And tell your handsome fiancé that his surgeon sister-in-law said hey," Brea teased.

The two shared goodbyes before the call ended. Even though Britain didn't get the chance to hash things out with her mother, talking to Brea put a few things in perspective and brought her a sense of relief. Once she finished up the phone call, Priest returned to his seat next to her.

Britain rested her head on his shoulder, causing him to place a kiss on her forehead. "Your surgeon sister-in-law said hey, handsome fiancé ," Britain teased.

Priest laughed. He enjoyed Brea's humor and lighthearted personality.

They had only met once, and she spent the night throwing aimless compliments at him.

He knew that was just her personality, nothing to take personal.

"Where was she when I got shot? Seven needed all the help she could get," Priest jested, causing Britain to fall into a round of her infectious laughter.

"She did, but she still managed to save your life," Britain sighed aimlessly. "That's why I could never be upset with her."

Priest sat another kiss on her head before wrapping his arm around her. "I know,Gioia."

Even though Priest didn't want Britain dwelling on Seven’s lack of communication, he decided to let her have the day. Her emotions were still fragile and fresh, so interrupting her process would just be him breaking his promise to her.

The two-hour flight drifted past them as they busied themselves with conversation.

As they landed, Priest smiled proudly as Britain gazed out the window in awe at the gorgeous sight of Italy.

Priest had decided to settle in the Province of Sassari in Sardinia.

Italy was renowned for their detailed and dated architecture, and although Priest found it beautiful, he didn't think he could settle in that for the rest of his life.

He was from New York, where everything was scraping the sky, busy and modern.

He didn't enjoy being out of touch, so Sassari, a much more modernized city, was perfect for him.

It captured the essence of city life while still providing him the perfect oasis to make him feel like he was on an infinite vacation.

Sassari was enclosed by gorgeous bodies of water isolating it from the rest of Italy. It was filled with prestigious homes, high-class businesses and an elite social class. The snobby people that filled Sassari was one of its downfalls; however, the province itself was perfect.

"I don't even speak Italian," Priest overheard Britain mumble to herself as she continued to gaze out the window.

He chuckled as he grasped her hand into his. "I can teach you," he assured her before raising her hand to his lips for a kiss.

Britain shot him a sheepish smile, realizing that she had been thinking out loud. "Thank you, P." She turned their hands over to bring his hand to her lips.

After a short while, the two were able to exit the jet. The calming breeze of Italy swept over their skin, bringing them to instant ease. " Benvenuto in Italia ," Priest chuckled lightly as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

Hearing how graceful the Italian language rolled off his tongue caused butterflies to swarm her stomach. She angled her head upward to catch sight of him. "What did you just say?" She raised her brows in amusement.

"Welcome to Italy," Priest translated with a sly smile.

Britain rotated in his hold before sprouting up on her tippy toes for a kiss, which he granted.

She was caught in so much bliss at the moment.

Sassari was simply gorgeous. If she hadn't known any better, she would have thought they were still in Ibiza because of how bright and vibrant it was and the smell of the fresh saltwater roaming the air.

She didn't quite feel at home yet, but Sassari wasn't as off-putting as she thought after all.

They were only at the ramp, so there wasn't much to see aside from other massive aircrafts and the bright blue skies. "We're about twenty minutes from the estate," Priest informed Britain.

"You never mentioned an estate before," she recalled, furrowing her brows.

Priest sighed lightly before shrugging his broad shoulders. "I didn't want you to be overwhelmed."

"How big are we talking?" Britain asked with her hand on her hip.

"Just three acres," he shrugged dismissively as if he were describing the size of the small apartment she had in New York. Britain’s eyes widened a bit at the thought of the both of them being responsible for maintaining three full acres.

"I barely threw out the trash in my apartment," she told him with a sense of worry wavering through her words.

Priest chuckled as he nodded his head. "But the trash was always taken out because I did it," he reminded her. "You don't have anything to worry about,Gioia. I wouldn't put you in a position that would just cause you more stress."

Trusting him, she nodded her head. Once their luggage was hauled into the SUV, Priest assisted her into the backseat and got in beside her.

They greeted the driver before they began the drive to the estate.

Priest eyed Britain as she gazed out the window.

He could tell she was growing a bit flustered at the thought of having to consider Sassari home.

She deserved a moment to be in her thoughts, so he opted out of trying to smooth things over.

If Britain had any concerns, comments or opinions, he needed her to be openly honest with him so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

They rode in silence, hand in hand. Britain was in awe at the passing scenery.

Everything looked as though it was ripped straight out if an international magazine.

The culture seeped through not only the architecture, but the people as well.

There were various fresh fruit and vegetable stands.

The restaurants thrived on outside dining, so the streets were littered with tables and patrons enjoying their food, and the one thing that gave Britain a sense of ease was the traffic.

The traffic was pretty intense, which ultimately reminded her of how irate she used to get back in Harlem whenever she was behind the wheel.

Sassari was definitely more modernized and gentrified; however, it still kept a tight hold on the culture and that was lovely.

Arriving at the estate, Priest felt a sense of relief at the sight of the steel gates being pulled open so they could drive toward the home.

The driveway was long and surrounded by various trees and the finely manicured lawn.

When they made it to the top of the hill, Britain's jaw dropped in awe.

The home was simply gorgeous. It was constructed in three levels with a modern sense of architecture.

The exterior of the home was white accented with thick paned glass.

It was on the top of a hillside overlooking the ocean and the multiple acres of land acquired with the property.

Once the car came to a smooth halt, Priest exited the vehicle to assist Britain out.

Her hair flowed gracefully in the wind as her skin basked in the beaming sun.

Priest couldn't help but admire her beauty as her soft brown eyes peered around at the home’s exterior.

It was a bit smaller than the neighboring homes since Priest purchased it with the intention of living in it alone, but it was far bigger than what Britain had ever imagined.

She didn't know why, but she had her mind set on them moving into a little cottage in a serene part of Italy, but she knew with Priest that would never be the case.

Her nervousness shot through her body as she tightened her hold on his hand.

He chuckled as he led the way to the front door.

Near the doorbell was a small lock box which he toyed with while putting in the code.

Once it opened, Britain saw there were four sets of keys inside.

He handed two of the sets over to Britain.

"Keys to the house and keys to the guest house.”

"Fancy," Britain mumbled as she looked down at the keys.

Priest pushed the door open, hoping Britain would be in awe at the interior of the home, but to his dismay, they were only met with an array of packed boxes from New York.

"Home sweet home!" Britain announced excitedly, causing Priest to simply stale face her. He had forgotten about the labor of actually unpacking and settling into the home.

"You'll do all the unpacking, right?" he teased with a smirk.

Britain side-eyed him with a scoff. "Boy, you wish," she replied as she bypassed the multiple columns of boxes.